String of Fate
by ButterNutBrit
Summary: It's the time of the Red Scare, and America has finally snapped from the the thought of Communists overthrowing his country. You, his closest friend, are not a suspect of being a communist supporter. How will you convince your dearest friend that you're innocent?


***Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia, or any of its characters. Just the ideas and what I am writing.

***Pairing/Shipping: **Snapped!AmericaxMale!Reader

The roaring 1920's, a time when the Great Depression hit America like an iron train. Sending America and his people into the bottomless pit of despair and crazed outrage. The 1940's, when America feared that Germany would take over under an evil tyrant and suppress him and his people as it did back in the 20s. These are a few timelines that you have, not only read about in school, but heard it first hand from the horse's mouth himself, America. He has told you so much about his own personal experience in this great land of his; from time to time that is. And while you listened to him, seeing how some of the tragedies have pained him in certain ways, and to such a degree, you cannot help but wonder, what is the fate of dear America now? And more importantly, yours.

It's the 1950s, and rumors are spreading of communists infiltrating the government and turning this country, the land of the free, into a communistic nation. Secrets left and right, unsure of what is true anymore, you have wondered what will happen to yourself, now that he's looking for you everywhere. Yes, you are, or should you say _was_ a close friend of America. Instead of helping your closest and dearest comrade, you find yourself running in and out of dark alleys; trying to find a way to clear your name.

You're sure anyone who is wondering why you are in this place right now...well, let's start from the beginning, shall we?

You're a born and raised American citizen of this great country. However, when you graduated high school, you went over to England to study Economics at a very prestigious university. You and America have always been great friends since you two met after you graduated and began a job in the security department up in D.C., and have helped him out in so many ways to keep his country going smoothly. However, as the Cold War trudged on, and the coming of the Second Red Scare, you noticed the growing paranoia among the citizens of your beloved country.

Senator McCarthy was on a communistic rampage, seeking out any communists or sympathizers and giving them their just desserts. You and America were ordered to find and root out any of these kinds of people and deal with them; the American way.

After a long days work, which is a week in reality, you drove yourself back to America's apartment to catch some sleep. It was near midnight when you had left the C.I.A. and was more than ready to hit that bed harder than a sack of bricks. The air was chilly and while you drove, you noticed a few people here and there; eyeing one another to see if they were commie supporters or not. No one seemed to trust anyone anymore. So you kept your face straightforward and had a mopey expression, wanting to get home faster.

While you and America had been working on this for a few years, you began to notice how he seemed a bit more _distant_ to you these past few days. No matter, you figured he was finally reaching his limit on being fatigued and didn't have enough energy to seem so cheery. But, he did seem a bit out of it, more than usual; like he's fixing to snap. And, you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a snapped America.

It had been a long time since you really slept well, and tonight would be nice to finally catch a few hours of sleep. America was still out doing his own business at the time when you hit your bed and entered dreamland. You lived with him in his apartment, which made work easier for the both of you; and helped save you the trouble of having a finger pointed at you for being a commie or a sympathizer at one during this time in history.

You were in a halfway sleep state when you heard the front door bust down; sending you falling off the bed and onto the hard floor, looking around in the dark. You had no idea what was going on, and thought a burglar had finally broken in. But, why would one make such a noise? That's when it hit you, it had to be a communistic supporter; looking for you and America. You were well known to a lot of people for helping America find these commies and dealing with them.

Loud footsteps could be heard walking around the apartment. You crawled to your door and peeked out, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever it might be. You saw a shadow, walking towards the hallway then realized who it was when the intruder spoke.

"Ohhhh, my best buddy~", the intruder sang out eerily.

Your eyes widen. It was America. You were going to get up and give him a piece of your mind, until you felt a chill run up your spin. Something wasn't right, something about America, and what he said, was making you feel a bit uncomfortable; which never happened before. You heard a click, which sounded like one from the pistol he carried.

"Why are you hiding from me? I know you're here~. Your cars outside."

You gently shut the door and tried to think of a way to get out, or at least, get away from him a safe distance. While you were doing that, you didn't realize America was already at your door, slowly opening it, while you opened your window to use the fire escape to flee the place.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said flipping the lights on, pistol pointed at you; giving you a psychotic smile that made your skin crawl.

You froze, unable to move. You honestly had not even heard his loud footsteps make their way to your room.

"What's the matter, traitor, can't look your enemy in the face?"

You started to slowly get your knee off the windowsill and turn around to face him, giving him a scared yet quizzical look. "Enemy?" That's when you realized, he had snapped; his facial expression gave it all away.

"Oh don't act like you don't know."

"No, America, I don't. This isn't cops and robbers. I didn't break in, I live here."

America's twisted grin grew and he walked ever so slowly to you; not taking those piercing ice blue eyes off of you. "Seems to me you have. Care to explain why you've decided to deceive me? By acting like you're my friend, helping me, only to get closer and then do this?!"

"What do you mean? I haven't lied to you just to get close to you. What's wrong, America? Did something happen at work after I left?"

He stopped, about feet from you. "Oh, as a matter of fact, it did. You see, a report has come in that you're a commie. Care to explain?"

You gave him a stupid look. "What?! What report? I have never supported the communists nor sympathized to them."

"I know you're one of them!" America snapped as he held a gun pointed in the direction of your head. His eyes were wild and ablaze.

"I'm telling you America, I am NOT a communist. I was born here, raised here. I've been working with you since I can remember. Why would I turn on you now?" You had your hands raised halfway up in the air, trying to show him you weren't going to do anything.

"And yet you went to a university over in England to study economics? Right?"

"Noooo, I just went there to party." You rolled your eyes, despite the situation you were in.

Alfred pulled the trigger and it grazed the side of your check barely. Sending your eyes wide open and you into more shock.

"Don't be a smartass with me now! Next shot will be right between your eyes." He gritted his teeth.

"Yes, I did go to study there. But that doesn't make me a communist!"

"Then why go over _there_ to study it and not here? Hm?"

"You know why! I wanted to study abroad and the university wanted me there because of my excellent grades, skills and resume."

"So they taught you economics AND how to be a commie?"

"You're not going to believe me unless I prove it to you are you?" You asked callously.

"I don't think you'll have the time to prove it." He said with a hiss. "Because the dead can't testify."

That's when it hit you, he snapped so much he was literally going to blow your brains out. You still didn't know how you were going to get out of this mess, but then you looked to the side of America, which made him turn his head slightly. You darted and used one hand to move his pistol out of the way and kneed him as hard as you could in the groin. He fell forward, grabbing himself as a shot rang out into the ceiling.

You took the opportunity to run right out the room and as fast as you could for your dear life and headed towards your car. Just as you started to peel off, America was coming out of the door, pistol aiming for you. He fired a few rounds as you tried to dart and dodge them with the car; only after getting a bit further, you realized he was getting into his to follow you.

You had to find a way to get away from him, at least long enough to find a way to clear yourself, or find some kind of protection from him. But if a report really did come in about you, then you wouldn't be protected.

In and out, darting and screeching; loud noises through the night as your car whipped and turned about, running red lights since the streets weren't crowded and peeling away back to your work. Also, taking side roads, hoping that America would not be on your trail, or at least far enough behind you.

Since you knew he would be following your car, you came across a residential place that had a good number of cars. You stopped by some trees and hid your car behind a bush that covered enough of it and hoped out; hot wiring one of the cars that looked nowhere near like yours; but had tinted windows. First being called a commie and now stealing a car; well, you needed to get away and not be noticed, that's for sure.

After a few more minutes of tinkering, an no alarms going off or neighbors being awake to see you in the dreary night, you hoped in the car and sped off; looking for some traffic to blend into while you make your getaway. You managed to lose America by being in this car and blending in with the small cluster of cars going the same way as you.

Not long after the somewhat peaceful ride, you arrive at your work. However, you decided to not go in. One, America would figure you might come back here, and two, it's the C.I.A., they have surveillance cameras everywhere and would spot you in a blink of an eye.

You remembered and old police buddy of yours down at a station not too far from there and decided to go there to seek help. When you arrive, you notice there's a man at the desk; sitting there looking bored out of his mind.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you parked a block away from it. You realized you couldn't find a payphone, and needed to get in touch with the Chief so you could tell him what's going on. You walked into the precinct, trying to act all casual to the officer sitting there.

As intelligent as you are, your people skills were something to be desired, but when push comes to shove, you can be quite the charmer. You casually told him you had no money for a payphone, along with your car running out of gas, and asked if you could use his phone. When he questioned you about why you needed it, you honestly told him you needed to call the chief of police, who was a dear close friend of yours. It wasn't a lie, but you needed his help and this guy wouldn't do it for you.

When your friend answered the phone, you told him the same thing that you told the officer at the desk about why you're at the police station and calling him. Since he didn't live that far from there, you asked if he would come get you. He obliged and you said your goodbyes and waved at the officer as you left; telling him not to worry that you'll be fine.

He arrived with you on the sidewalk, and that's when you quietly explained to him what was going on, and asked if he had any information on anyone who might be a suspect on framing you, or had a history of doing so.

The Chief thought for a moment and had an idea. You both walked back into the station, and to a backroom that had filing cabinets filled to the brim with stuff.

"If I remember right, this is the cabinet with those who are affiliated with communistic stuff. Take a look, and good luck." He said and went to sit down while you ruffled through names and every inch of the papers.

You were reading like mad through all the papers, feeling like there was no hope in sight; until, you found who you were looking for. At first you were stunned, but then you remembered this person from when you were studying at the university over in England. This person was someone who had appeared in court, several times, for allegedly framing a few other people and making them seem like they were commie supporters, or commies themselves. You wrote down all the info you could on a piece of paper and stuck it in your back pocket.

"I need to get back to work somehow and tell the others about this. Without the psycho getting me first. And, I'll need you to help back me up in any way possible when I get this info to them, okay?"

"No problem. Just glad you found what you needed. Took a few hours, but it's better than looking for a few days or months." He chuckled. "Now, if you want, I can give you a lift back to your work?"

"I think it'd be best if I get there myself. I don't need to endanger anyone else with him on my trail...somewhere..." You trailed off.

You left the station, with the Chief inside, and walked down the street towards a bus station. However, a loud screech pierced through that small neighborhood and you didn't have to think twice on who it was. You quickly sprinted down the street to find a hiding place, but he was on your trail like a hound dog on a escaped convict.

You were completely out of breath and tired from all that running, making sure America was not in sight anymore. Though, you're luck soon ran out as a bolt of darkness bolted from around the curb and was aiming straight for you. Your instincts kicked in and you ran into an alley that his car couldn't get in. He stopped his car near the entryway and followed you, telling you to halt of he'd shoot you in the back of the head.

You turned around, ready to end this if he'd actually listen.

"I ought to shoot you for kneeing me early, bud. But, since we didn't finish our nice little conversation, how about we finish it now? Because patience, is what I do not have right now." America was beyond irritated by now.

You were getting a bit irritated with this man who finally snapped. " They only taught me economics. HOW, do I seem like a commie to you? You've seen my background check, I've worked with you for some good time now, and I'm always around you more than anyone else. If there's a reason why you think I'm one, then someone's framing me! Have you even checked with anyone from the Un-American Activities Committee? Or anywhere else important? Like some back alleys?"

The crazed Alfred just looked at you with an arched eyebrow.

You continued. "They've found a few former CPUSA members who testified about their acts of espionage in situations where the statue of limitations on prosecuting them had run out. And in my pocket I have the paper of who I know is framing me and why. If you care not to shoot me I'll hand it to you to prove my innocence."

After a few moments, America kept his pistol out towards you and walked closer. You told him where the paper was in your back pocket and he took it; opening up in the dreary morning light, only able to read it due to some light poles that surrounded you both.

His crazed look stayed the same while he read the information on the paper. He folded it back up and put it in his own jacket pocket and lowered his gun; keeping his gaze on you. "And how do I know you didn't just find some random person to frame and save yourself? I know you have the intelligence to do that."

"Because, that person on that piece of paper, right there, was a roommate of mine back when I was in the university. He hated me because of my intelligence and always tried to get me in trouble. But, I say we go to the big boys and have it tested. Maybe then you'll listen to me after hearing it from them."

"Well then, let's go see if it's true. If it is, then you're safe, if not; well then I'm sure you know the consequences."

After you he made you get in his car and drive you both back to headquarters, he gave the paper to some people to go and check out while you both sat waiting. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you awake, and the fact that America seemed like he wanted to rip your head off or shoot your brains out to feel better.

Some hours later, a few men came back in and declared you innocent and that the information you provided was accurate and would hopefully save a lot of other citizens from being wrongly accused.

A breath of relief was given to you and you looked at America, however...

America still had that snapped look on him. After this short time, and seeing him snap from what was happening to his country, you wondered if you could ever trust him fully again; without the fear of him going to kill you. But, also, you wondered if there would ever be a time in your short span here, if he could ever trust you again? You had done no wrong, but just a few minor things that happened had set him off and over the edge; into an abyss that seemed to swallow him.

You watched him leave the room and go on his way. Your closest and most dearest friend, lost forever in a sea of chaos, unable to come back to get a grasp on reality.

What will happen to both of you? To his country from here on out?


End file.
